New Beginnings
by StrongHermione
Summary: Her life as she knew it at an end, Hermione returns to the Muggle world and the village of White Swan where her parents settled after the war. Who from her past becomes part of her new lease on life? HG/SS; AU; EWE?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters or locations you recognise are the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. I make no money from the writing of this story._

_This story is written from a prompt that was given out several years ago by TycheSong. It has been languishing on my computer for nearly two years with me writing bits and pieces at a time. It is finally in a state that I can begin to post it._

_NB Severus may appear to be out of character in this story. I put it down to the fact he is finally able to be the man he always wished to be. Do not despair, our favourite, snarky professor will still come out to play on occasion but he will not be there all the time. This story also contains some Ron bashing. It is not gratuitous but someone has to be the bad guy. He drew the short straw this time._

_This story is un-beta'd, any errors are my own._

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**CHAPTER I**

"Hermione... love, maybe you should go out this evening," Alana Granger tried to persuade her daughter.

Hermione turned her blank eyes toward her mother. "Where?" she asked, gesturing out the window to the rooftops of the small village her parents lived and worked in. They had settled here once they returned from Australia after the war in the Wizarding world.

Alana joined her daughter on the large window seat overlooking the garden and the village of White Swan in the valley beyond. "There is a lovely pub down there. We usually go on Friday nights. It's nowhere near as busy on a Wednesday. The couple that own it are lovely; I was thinking today that if you're going to stay here then you should get out and meet some of the locals. Wendy and Peter are a lovely couple, and they're only a few years older than you."

"Wendy and Peter?" Hermione asked with a look of skepticism.

Alana gave a tinkling laugh. "They have a large picture of Wendy Darling and Peter Pan flying over the bar. There are little Tinkerbells hidden all over the place too, on the back of a chair, or stuck to a post; I even saw one on the fire poker one night, it's a real theme." Hermione chuckled slightly. It heartened Alana to see. Her daughter had been much too depressed lately, granted it was an expected emotion given what she had been through, but she would never recover from the betrayal she had suffered if she spent the rest of her life sitting on this window seat.

"Maybe I'll go with you on Friday night then," Hermione tentatively agreed. "I don't feel like going out on my own tonight."

Alana patted Hermione's foot as she stood. "Alright, but I'm going to hold you to that, love," she said firmly. Hermione nodded and turned on the reading lamp next to her seat before picking up her book again. Alana gave her a soft smile before leaving her alone.

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Emmet Granger stood in the doorway to his sitting room, gazing at his daughter as she immersed herself in yet another book. Since arriving at their house three weeks ago she had only moved from that spot to attend meals, deal with her personal hygiene and go to bed. Apart from dinner the previous Friday evening; Alana had finally convinced her to join them on their weekly outing. She seemed to have regained some of her previous spark by the end of the night. She was starting to look morose again though.

He was so happy to have her living with them again, even though she was now twenty six years old. She had been wrenched from them it seemed when she was eleven, hardly seeing her again until she was nineteen. Even then that wretched Weasley did his utmost to keep their beloved daughter away from them as much as possible.

_'They're Muggles, 'Mione I don't know what to talk to them about,' whined the voice of Ron Weasley as he sat in the dining room, waiting for Hermione's parents to bring dinner in from the kitchen. His voice carried easily to that room. Alana's face twisted into a scowl at the butchering of her daughter's beautiful name. Emmet's face turned to thunder at the implication that he, a well-educated, cultured man, would be unable to find a topic he could converse on with a nineteen year old boy._

_'Talk to them about their garden, ask them about their work,' the voice of their daughter floated to them. It seemed she was trying to be patient. There was a deep mumbling before they heard, 'Oh for heaven's sake, Ronald, talk to them about the football game you went to with Dean last week! Otherwise sit and be silent while I talk to my parents!'_

Weasley had not visited them much after that night. Emmet would always get a warm feeling of satisfaction when he thought of the in-depth discussion he had led that evening, first on the intricacies of the human jawbone, followed by a detailed analysis of the current political climate, and finishing with a rousing critique of the latest performance of The Royal Shakespeare Company at the Globe Theatre. His wife and daughter had participated in the conversation enthusiastically; Weasley's face had alternated between boredom, bewilderment and frustration.

Unfortunately Weasley staying away also meant Hermione did for the most part as well, only managing to visit them once or twice a month if they were lucky. All that had ended just a few weeks ago when, after a workday best forgotten, Hermione caught the rogue in bed with another man! The fiend then had the nerve to suggest that his daughter—his beautiful, intelligent, brilliant daughter—should be happy to live a life of duplicity in order for him to keep his secret! After ensuring the red-headed swine would be unable to—ahem, _perform_—for quite a while, she had thrown herself on the mercy of her parents, knowing what awaited her in the Wizarding world once news was spread that she had left the pure-blooded seeming paragon of virtue and heroism.

They had contacted her friend Harry Potter, who had rushed from his home in France with his gorgeous, little blonde wife. Emmet had been quite dazzled at first until a little whisper in her ear from her husband caused—_something_—to happen and Emmet found his head miraculously cleared, along with a profuse apology from the young, pregnant witch. '_I am so sorry, ze 'ormones—zey are a beetch_.' Despite her obvious distress at the time, Gabrielle's explanation had drawn a hearty laugh from his daughter.

Between Harry's and her parents' counsel, Hermione had decided to withdraw from the Wizarding world in Britain indefinitely. The reason she had even caught Ron _in flagrante delicto_ had been because she had left work early following a crushing disappointment at the hands of her supervisor. She knew she could not face the stares and taunts that would inevitably follow her every time she ventured out. A visit from Harry curtailed any plans Ron had for revenge on his former girlfriend and a visit to the Minister of Magic had her resignation letter accepted effective immediately. Hermione felt bad at having Harry use his good standing to make her life easier but, as she was curtly informed, she and Gabrielle were the only two witches ever to not use him for his status. If he chose to use it, that was another matter entirely. Emmet felt a brief moment of regret that this young man was already taken, but ultimately rejoiced that his daughter had such a good friend in him.

Gabrielle had assured her friend that any magical requirements she had could be ordered through them or Hermione could obtain them herself if she visited their home in France. Gabrielle acquired an owl for Hermione when the French witch visited her sister to assure her that Hermione was safe and under Harry's wing. She did not let on exactly where Hermione was staying, she knew the Weasleys would be very interested, but she also knew her sister would keep her confidence. If Fleur could reassure the Weasleys then no one else's opinion really mattered. Hermione was grateful for the small brown owl, naming him Delacour in honour of the giver.

Emmet was shaken out of his reverie by the movement of the owl flying past the window. It drew his gaze to the stunning view provided by the glass. "Look at that sunset, Princess. Have you ever seen such a beautiful one?" he asked as he sat down in the window seat with his daughter. Hermione turned her head to take in the view. Emmet was heartened to see the ghost of a smile come onto her face. "Why don't you go take a walk? The fresh air will do you good. You could stop in the pub for a pint, maybe a spot of dinner. You enjoyed it on Friday," he cajoled.

Hermione turned to him and smiled. "You and Mum are determined to get me out of this house, aren't you?" she asked. She sighed as she turned back to the view of the village, the sun setting in the distance, creating long and interesting shadows.

"I'll be a little bit blunt with you, Princess," Emmet said firmly. "We have not had a night to ourselves since you moved back in."

Hermione looked at him, horror dawning across her features. "Oh, Dad, I am so sorry," she cried, realisation of what her parents had given up to have her back in the house filling her. "I am such an ungrateful little..." she trailed off as she looked imploringly into her father's eyes. Emmet's heart went out to her and he put an arm around her shoulder.

"Now, Princess, hush," he instructed as he placed a soft kiss on her temple. "You know we love you and we are ecstatic to have you back here. You are welcome to stay for the rest of your life if need be. However, you are not going to sit here in this seat the entire time. I know you received a lot of reward money from that war; add in the bonus payment that Harry got for you and it's enough for you to live on modestly. But I also know you are not one to sit idle and that's what you've been doing for three weeks. Now, I realise you were distraught when you said it, but you did vow that Weasley's treatment of you was not going to get the better of you. You would not let him win that way. Princess, right now he is ahead on points."

Hermione was staring at her father, she knew he was right. And damnit, she _had_ vowed not to wallow and give Ron a victory. He had had enough of a victory in practically forcing her from the Wizarding world and all its prejudices and strict rules in the first place. She had left so she could lead an independent life, free from any constrictors placed on her simply because, '_that is the way things have always been done'_.

Hermione pushed her father so he would move, enabling her to stand as well. "You are right, I am going to go for a walk and pop into the pub for a meal and a pint. Maybe Wendy is up for a chat," Hermione supposed.

Emmet's face twisted into a small grimace. "Actually Wendy and Peter always have Tuesday and Wednesday nights off. They're the quietest nights you understand, so Peter's cousin looks after the bar on those nights. But he is a genial enough bloke, and you should meet more people in the village. Everyone likes him," Emmet told her encouragingly.

Hermione nodded with resolve. "I will go and meet him. That will be my new goal, to meet a new person each week. Thank you for being a little bit blunt with me, Dad. I needed to hear it," she said sincerely, giving her father a tight hug.

Emmet returned her embrace. "You are more than welcome, Princess," he said softly.

Hermione stood back and smiled. "I am going to shower and change, and then I'll go. I promise you won't see me before ten," she said with a wink.

Emmet simply smiled in response and gave her a little playful shove to get her moving. He relished the sound of her laughter coming from her. He could tell it was a little forced, and she would probably spend the next two days back on the window seat, but even a small start was a start. They could build on this.

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Hermione wandered down the lane which would take her to the main road of the village. There were eight hundred people living in the village itself and a further one thousand living in farms and hamlets in the surrounding area. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone and, as the daughter of the local dentists, Hermione was always going to be something of a well-known inhabitant.

The Grangers were highly vocal about their brilliant daughter, extolling her virtues far and wide. Well not so much far and wide as much as to the patients sitting captive in their dentist chair. They had moved to this village when Hermione restored their memories and brought them back from Australia following the war. While apprehensive at first at what their daughter had done to them, learning a few home truths from Harry quickly found them clutching at their daughter, thanking her profusely for saving their lives.

She had done so, directly. In the aftermath of the war, documents had been found in the Ministry detailing various Muggle targets—people and locations—that the Death Eaters had planned to attack. Nine of the first ten had neat lines crossed through them, seventeen of the first twenty and forty-one of the first fifty, indicating the 'threats' that had been removed. The names Emmet and Alana Granger had been third on the list. Harry had shown it to them. Seeing how close they had come to death but for their daughter's actions quickly had them forgiving any slight they felt over her not discussing it with them first, and starting anew with her.

Breathing in the clean, country air as she walked, Hermione waved at the occupants of the few cars that drove past and said polite hello's to the people she saw in their front yards, watering plants or having an early evening drink on their front porches. Before she knew it she was standing in front of the pub. She could see one family sitting eating a meal and two old men she had been introduced to the previous Friday evening. They were watching the evening news on the television provided. She knew one of them was Peter's father, who had owned the pub before him and Wendy.

Shoulders squared, Hermione opened the door and stepped inside. The two old men gave her a cheery wave but quickly turned their focus back to the news programme. Hermione knew better than to interrupt seniors while they were watching the news. She gave a friendly smile to the family that were in the middle of their meal. They were a young couple with two children that looked to be about three and six. Hermione thought the woman to be not much older than her. She felt heartened at the obviously warm look the woman bestowed on her, like she thought maybe they could be friends.

Hermione stepped up to the bar, momentarily surprised when she saw the back of a man and realised it was not Peter. '_Oh yes, the cousin_,' she remembered what her father had said. She admired the view the man was providing as he rummaged through a cupboard. He seemed to know she was there as his muffled voice came through, "I'll just be a second." Hermione told him to take his time and went back to ogling. The most prominent detail that held her focus was the trim, tight arse clad in a pair of faded blue denim jeans. She just wanted to reach out and run her hands over it. Her vision was drawn up to broad shoulders which were clad in an old Manchester United sweatshirt with the number 23 and '_Beckham_' blazoned across the back. Fine, black hair was cut short in what looked to be one of the latest styles. '_I wonder if the front looks as good as the back_,' Hermione mused as she willed the bartender to stop rummaging and turn around.

The man finally stood with a bottle of rum in his hand, which he placed on the counter that ran the length of the wall behind the bar. He turned with a smile, ready to greet the familiar voice that had called to him. He could not place it from within the cupboard but he knew everyone in the village and surrounds so deduced it was obviously a local coming in for a drink and possibly a meal. His greeting died on his lips in shock when he came face to face with Hermione Granger.

Hermione returned the man's shocked gaze with one of her own. If she had had all the time in the world, she would never have guessed that the arse she had just been ogling and the shoulders she had just been drooling over would turn out to belong to the man who had turned to greet her. She was now looking into the dark eyes of Severus Snape.

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_I hope you enjoyed the beginning. Please leave a review if you would like to but do not feel under obligation to do so whatsoever._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters or locations you recognise are the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. I make no money from the writing of this story._

_Thank you to all the reviewers who so kindly took the time to write. I am so appreciative of each and every one._

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**CHAPTER II**

Severus finally shook himself from his reverie. He nodded his head politely, "Miss Granger," he stated formally. "How are you this evening?" He knew the barrage of questions would come any second. He only hoped that she would remember where she was—in a Muggle pub. His uncle at the end of the bar was aware of his _hidden talents_ but no one else in the establishment this evening was. With Hermione still standing there in shock, he tried, "Can I get you a drink?"

"A d-drink?" she stuttered. "A DR-" she abruptly cut off the rising volume of her voice and closed her eyes, visibly regaining her control. "What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously.

Severus simply smirked. "Working behind the bar, you?"

"Working behind..." she began to repeat faintly.

"We will be here a long time, Miss Granger, if you continue to repeat everything I say. May I recommend a glass of the local ale?" he enquired politely, grabbing a clean glass from the tray next to the beer taps and holding it up to her. She nodded dumbly and stared at his face as he concentrated on pouring her beer. He placed it on the bar in front of her. To his amusement, she grabbed it and chugged back half the contents before placing the glass back on the bar with a thud. He chuckled when she brought her hand to her mouth to cover a delicate burp.

"Excuse me," she whispered.

"Of course," he replied. "How are your parents?" he asked politely as he began to wipe down the bar.

"You know my parents?" Hermione asked.

"The tone of incredulity you keep using is rather endearing and quite a change from what I am used to hearing in your voice, Miss Granger," he said with amusement. "Yes, I know your parents. This is a small village, I am sure they have told you everyone knows everyone around here."

"Here, here," the two old men agreed from the end of the bar. The commercials were on.

"So they—_know_—you?" she asked delicately.

Severus gave her an approving look at her discreet questioning. "Yes, they—_know_—me," he answered with a smile. Hermione blinked at seeing the easy upturn to his lips. Why it was almost like smiling was something he did regularly!

"But, forgive me, Professor, but I am just so shocked to see you here, working behind a bar!" This was a concept Hermione was having a lot of difficulty with.

"Professor?" asked an interested voice at the end of the bar. Peter's father came to stand next to the stool she was sitting on. "I only know of _certain_ people who would refer to Severus as _'Professor'_." Hermione could hear the protectiveness in the older man's voice.

"It's all right, Uncle John. Miss Granger is one of my former students," Severus explained.

"From that fancy-pants boarding school up in Scotland?" the other man seated next to the telly asked. He looked at Hermione closely. "Ah yes, dentists would be able to afford that." He turned back to the television, once again immersing himself in the news report. John did not move just yet.

"You're not here to make trouble for him are you?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione bristled at the very suggestion while Severus simply chuckled and shook his head. "Of course not, that is a ludicrous thing to suggest! Professor Snape chose to distance himself from the Wiz— _other_ world, just as I have, and I respect his decision. Live and let live," she said firmly. Severus raised a quizzical eyebrow at the revelation that Hermione had left the Wizarding world.

"_Doctor_ Snape, not Professor," John said before turning and heading back to his news report. Hermione instinctively knew this meant the older man was happy with her answer. What he actually said permeated her brain. She turned to her former teacher.

"You're a _doctor_? But... I thought you were a bartender..." she was confused.

Severus reached under the bar for something and came up with a stethoscope which he placed around his neck. "Doctor by day..." he turned dramatically while ripping the stethoscope away and throwing a tea towel over his shoulder, "bartender by night!" Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Severus rolled his eyes. "Oh come now, Miss Granger. Surely you can stop sitting there emulating that dunderhead you call a best friend and show a modicum of the intelligence you were once well-known for," he snarled at her.

Hermione almost collapsed in her relief. "Oh, there you are! I was beginning to think you had been possessed by one of the pod-people!"

Severus chuckled at her response. "I have most certainly not been possessed, Miss Granger. I am simply a man who is now able to live his life the way he chooses. I answer to no one, I do not have to follow megalomaniacal despots, even well-meaning ones, and the only children I have to deal with are ill ones that are naturally more quiet and well-behaved than healthy ones."

"Does anyone, you know, _anyone_," Hermione's tone was heavy with innuendo, "know you're here?"

Severus smiled. "Minerva, Kingsley and the Malfoys are aware of my location. Uncle John, Peter and Wendy and your parents are _aware_," he gave her a pointed look, "and now you. That is all."

"My parents?" Hermione cried in astonishment. Somehow, in all the turmoil, the fact that her parents were aware of Snape's location and _talent_ only just registered in her mind. "They never said a word!"

"Miss Granger, surely you have visited your parents' dental practice," Severus waited while she nodded. "Then you are aware they share premises with the local GP, that's me. Do you really think they would not share anecdotes of their brilliant, only child over morning tea and lunch? It was my second day of working in the same building with them when we realised the connection. How many Hermione Grangers do you think there are in the world?"

"But... but in all that time they never mentioned the 'new' doctor was you!" she said.

Severus bowed his head slightly. "I asked them not to. I knew you were involved with Weasley and I did not want to put you in a position where you had to keep a secret from him. I enjoy my life here, Wiz— _people_," he gave her another pointed look after cutting himself off, "do not come here and I am left in peace. It is the way I have always wanted to live."

Hermione nodded, she could see his point and told him so. "I am hoping for a little anonymity here as well," she said.

"Excuse me, Doctor Sev, but may we have ice cream now, please?" a little voice piped up from beside Hermione. She looked down in surprise just as Severus leant over the bar.

"Well now, Nicholas, I don't know. Did you eat all your vegetables?" Severus asked. The little boy, Nicholas, nodded emphatically.

"Yes I did, Doctor Sev. Even the green ones," he replied with an upturn of his nose. "So did Chris," Nicholas pointed back to the table at his younger brother. Severus smiled.

"All right, you go back to Mum and Dad and I'll go into the kitchen and get your ice cream. Miss Granger, while I'm going is there anything you would like?" Severus asked as Nicholas ran back to his parents.

Hermione stared at him in shock. She had never seen him so... _patient_ before. The pointed clearing of his throat made her realise he was still waiting for an answer from her. "What is there?" she blurted. Severus gestured to a board behind him. Hermione smiled as she recognised the spiky handwriting that had adorned boards throughout her school years. It was a constant she was able to grab onto to help ground her in this surreal situation.

"It is a set menu tonight," Severus explained as Hermione read the choices.

"The pumpkin soup and bread rolls sound fantastic," she said. Severus disappeared through a door at the side of the bar. Hermione took a moment for a bathroom break. She had been steadily supplied with drinks during their conversation. She smiled when she reached the rest room doors. On one was a picture of Tinkerbell, the other had a picture of Captain Hook. The Peter Pan theme ran throughout.

She returned to a steaming bowl of soup and a basket of bread rolls. A place had been set at the end of the bar for her. She looked over to where Severus was talking to the family at the table. He looked over to her and smiled before turning back to the woman and answering a question. The woman nodded in response, also sending a smile Hermione's way before turning her attention to her youngest child who was having some trouble with his dessert.

Hermione had smiled in response before tucking into her own dinner. She had to suppress a moan of delight when the creamy pumpkin soup hit her tastebuds. She spent the next few minutes devouring her dinner. Severus had busied himself with wiping down some tables and taking dishes into the kitchen. He came back to her just as she was finishing. After taking her dishes back to the kitchen he returned and pulled another beer for her.

"I was thinking while I was eating," Hermione began. She was interrupted by a mock groan coming from her former teacher.

"And here come the questions," he said sarcastically. He waved as the family left the bar. All four of them waved back, the woman nodding politely at Hermione as they went through the door. John and the old man decided to call it a night as well, leaving Severus and Hermione alone.

"How did you manage to become a doctor of all things?" Hermione had a mental list of questions to ask. She was pretty sure they would not get through all of them tonight as one question's answer could lead to more questions she had not yet thought of. She was not going anywhere though and nor did it appear was he. If she had to come back next week, she would. She inwardly preened a little bit; look at her, making plans to leave the house again!

Severus pulled a beer for himself and came around the bar to sit on the stool beside her. "Originally when I had my career counselling at Hogwarts I was interested in becoming a healer. Circumstances obviously changed my career path but the desire remained. Once I recovered from the final battle, I was at a loose end. I did not want to continue teaching, nor did I particularly wish to work with potions full time any longer. I decided I wanted to pursue my original dream. Since I also no longer had a desire to live among Wizards, with the help of Minerva, I was enrolled at St Andrew's University in their medical programme. I had to delay my entry while I fully recovered, to avoid any _uncomfortable_ questions regarding my injuries, but in the end I attended there and earned my degree," he told her.

Hermione bowed her head. "I am so sorry Harry and I left you there. I know I apologised once before and you accepted but please allow me to again," she pleaded.

Severus nodded. He knew what it was to have regrets. It did not seem as if there were enough apologies you could give to make it right. In a former life he would have rebuffed her effort and rebuked her, probably to the point of tears, but he was a completely different man now. He fancied that now he was the man he had always wished he could be if circumstances had gone his way in the first place. Lucius Malfoy commented often that the only reason he visited and allowed Severus to visit in return was to keep some semblance of the man he once was ingrained in his personality. Lucius certainly understood his need to change, but did not want to see his old friend turn completely into a bleeding-heart Muggle.

"As I explained the last time you apologised, that is the purpose of the Draught of Living Death. It is supposed to make others think you have died. Fawkes' tears he had left in the vial plus the anti-venom administered by my elf were more than enough to see me well on the road to recovery before the antidote to the draught was applied," he said softly. "Please don't feel as though you should keep apologising to me, I have forgiven you and Potter for your actions."

Hermione looked up into the sincere, dark brown eyes of her former Professor. There was warmth in them she had never seen before tonight, almost as if the guards he had perpetually maintained in his years as a spy were fully down.

Severus noticed her examination of him, along with the curious tilt of her head, and correctly guessed her thoughts. "Maintaining constant Occlumency shields is extremely draining and detrimental to one's physical well-being. It causes insomnia, lack of appetite, premature aging and, funnily enough, a production of excess natural oils about the head."

Hermione bit her lip to stifle the bubble of laughter that threatened to burst forth. "So the reason you were like a greasy, overgrown bat is because you were constantly Occluding?" she asked.

"Yes, although I preferred the theory that I was in truth a vampire that had somehow worked out how to be in the sun. It meant I had overcome a great challenge," he confided. Hermione could not help herself, and the laughter pealed forth. Severus was delighted to hear it. '_Delighted? Where did _that_ come from_?' He took a drink to cover his momentary bout of obvious madness.

"So, if you share premises with my parents, how is it that you were not aware I was staying here?" Hermione asked.

"You are staying? I thought maybe you were just visiting," Severus said in surprise. "Aren't you with Weasley?"

"I was. I'm not now, so I moved home three weeks ago."

"Is that why you have left the Wizarding world?" Severus asked, remembering what she had said to John earlier.

"It's the primary reason, there were others as well. But you have not answered my question, sir," she replied.

"Severus, please. If you are going to be around then we must drop the formalities. May I call you Hermione?" Hermione nodded with a smile, before silently indicating she still required an answer to her original question. "I have been on holiday for the last month. Since I came to the village I have not had any time off. My family rallied the locals and they insisted they had no desire to see my face for four weeks. Even booked me a cruise and a tour around Asia," he said. He had been touched at the effort they had gone to, even graciously handing his money over to his uncle upon demand. "I only returned yesterday and spent today resting. I will return to my practice tomorrow."

"Oh," she replied. "Did you enjoy your holiday?"

"Yes I did, thank you. I relaxed fully for the first time in many years. I am caught up on all the leisure reading I had piled up and even managed to bring some of my knowledge for work up to date with the journals," he replied. "I am ready and raring to go. Now, I answered your questions, my turn?" he asked. Hermione gulped but nodded, that was fair. Severus really wanted to ask her what had happened with Weasley, but refrained from such a direct question. He decided to go with, "So what exactly prompted you to move home with your parents?"

"Since I'm sure they'll tell you anyway, I'd rather you hear it from me. It's twofold—I had been working on legislation to repeal laws against werewolves if they were registered, and safely administered dosages of Wolfsbane each full moon. It took eighteen months of research, interviews, meetings, conferences, you name it and I had finally beaten it into a thirteen hundred page document ready for presentation to the Wizengamot.

"The changes were far-reaching, for example, it abolished discriminatory practices in hiring and housing—if a person suffering lycanthropy was rejected, you had to prove why you thought the person they were passed over for was a better choice. Once a werewolf was hired, they had to be paid equally to a witch or wizard not suffering the condition. It allowed for a refuge centre to be set-up, and a department in St Mungo's dedicated to producing the Wolfsbane potion each month, and researching a long-term cure.

"I presented my final draft to my supervisor. He took it, and presented it to the Wizengamot as his own work. My name was not associated with it anywhere. It was a largely team effort, but I led the team. He made it seem as though none of us had done anything but sit there and pour cold water on his brilliant work, and the Wizengamot ate it up. I was trying to think of a tactful way to address the situation when another of my colleagues, who was also Muggleborn, asked him about recognising all our efforts, particularly mine. He told us that as our supervisor, the work was indirectly his and there would be no recognition given to anyone else. As Muggleborns, we could expect no better.

"I went home early, in a very foul mood, to find the man who I thought I would be spending my life with balls deep in another wizard's you-know-what." Severus choked on his beer at this revelation. "He then proceeded to tell me that it was my place to provide a respectable front for him, producing children and being a good little wife while he screwed anyone he felt like with pecs and a huge, ahem, and as a Muggleborn, I could expect no better. Having had _that_ phrase thrown at me twice in the space of an hour pushed me over the edge, and so I hexed him, gathered a few of my things, and got the hell out.

"Mum and Dad took me in, no questions asked and immediately called for Harry. He came and sorted everything out for me. He arranged for my entitlements to be paid out from the Ministry, along with another bonus for having destroyed Voldemort and then being screwed by the establishment I had worked so faithfully for. I personally believe that it's hush money for me to keep my silence about everything. He retrieved all my belongings from Ronald, as well as delivered a threat to him that if he tried to besmirch my name, he would soon find himself outed on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_!" Hermione finished her story with a small breath.

Severus was in turns angered, bewildered and amused by her story. He knew what the pure-blood 'establishment' could be like. He was still in semi-regular contact with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, and even though his former Order colleague did his best, the centuries-old corruption within the Ministry was extremely difficult to try and eradicate. Severus could easily see Kingsley having to cut Hermione loose with a large payout in order to placate the stuffy old bears in the high echelons of the Ministry.

"What are your plans now?" he asked her.

"Right now, it was actually a bit of a feat for me to get off my arse and come here for dinner," Hermione confessed. "I have been throwing myself a big pity-party for the last three weeks. Dad made me see sense earlier. I don't know what I want to do. I like it here so far, it's quiet and there are no magical people around. Well except you as it turns out." Severus nodded. "I have enough money to live on if I'm careful, but I imagine I'll be in need of a project sooner rather than later."

Severus stood and walked back behind the bar, pulling another beer each for the two of them. He leaned on the back counter. "This village will be a balm for your soul," he said softly. "The people have a way of drawing you out and making you feel at home. As clichéd as it sounds, you will discover your true self here, I did."

Hermione nodded at his candid words. It was certainly true that while the man before her looked a lot like her former professor, he did not sound or act like him. Well the timbre of his voice sounded the same, but the words coming out were different and the little inflections he used to employ were absent. She liked this new, friendlier version. "I think I will too," she replied. For the first time in three weeks, Hermione felt that things might actually be okay for her.

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_Thanks for reading. Please leave a review if you would like to._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters or locations you recognise are the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. I make no money from the writing of this story._

_Thank you to everyone for the continuing support of this story. I love and appreciate every single review that is left._

_Real life has been playing havoc with me recently and my muse is inspiring me on a whole other story than this one. Updates may be sporadic but the story is planned out to the end so do not fear it will be abandoned._

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**CHAPTER III**

Alana and Emmet were shocked the next morning when their daughter bounded cheerfully into the sun room, fully dressed with her hair tied back neatly and took a seat with them at the table. Alana placed her teacup back on its saucer and regarded her sternly. "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" she asked curtly.

"Oh, Mum," Hermione dismissed her mother's question with a wave of her hand. "I had a lovely conversation last night along with a sublime dinner and when I woke up this morning I decided that the window-seat and I had spent more than enough time together and Dad was right. Ron is ahead on points right now with the way I've been acting and it's time for a change."

Both her parents stared at her in astonishment. While Emmet had thought that getting her out of the house would be good for her, he never expected such a quick turnaround. "With whom did you have a conversation?" he asked.

"With Severus Snape," she replied.

"You met Severus?" Alana asked.

"Yes, I met Severus," Hermione said with a little far-away smile. She certainly knew him in a previous life, but the man he was now was definitely someone she had never met before. He had insisted on accompanying her to her gate the previous evening after he had closed the pub. She tried to put him off but he informed her it was not at all out of his way and they had chatted amicably the entire way about his recent trip. Hermione had had a little travel bug planted inside her just from listening to him talk about the places he had been and the things he had seen. '_Why not, I certainly have the time_.'

"How did he manage to pull you out of that funk in just one evening?" Emmet asked.

"He told me a bit about how he came to be living here and how the two of you have become his friends and just about how this village has helped him become the man he always wanted to be. This morning I was thinking about everything he has gone through and I thought, wow! Here's someone who was on the brink of death, who had lived one of the shittiest lives possible, who had practically an entire society just completely revile him, and he rose above it just by living his life the way he chose to for once. When I thought about that I realised my problems were pretty petty in comparison and I owe it to myself, to you, and to Professor Snape to do the same thing. So I am going to embrace the life here, meet some people, make some friends, maybe find a job, and live… the way I want to live."

Alana appeared incapable of speech. Emmet was not faring much better but there was one comment from Hermione's monologue that stuck in his brain. "Why do you feel you owe Severus?" he asked.

"Because he once stood between me and a fully transformed werewolf," she stated candidly. "He saved my life that night and me sitting on that window seat wallowing was not the way to repay him for that," Hermione explained.

"This is all well and good, love, but I don't want you to move too fast," Alana cautioned. "You might think your problems pale in comparison to Severus' but they are still the biggest upheavals _you've_ ever faced. I don't want to see you hit a wall and crash harder than you did before."

"I understand, Mum, really, I do. And I may seem like I'm going at this gung-ho, but I'm not. I want to do one thing today. Go into the village and meet some people. That's it. I might buy some books or some new clothes. Maybe I'll get myself a good pair of hiking boots and head off for a trek over the hills. There is nothing I have to do, but I have to get out of this house," Hermione said passionately.

"Why don't you walk in with us then," Emmet suggested. "We can show you all the places you need to know. If you're feeling inclined you can bring your old dad some of Mrs Richards' apple scrolls for morning tea."

"We'll see, Dad," Hermione said with a grin.

The three Grangers finished their breakfast and cleared away the dishes. Hermione stacked the dishwasher and put away the remaining food while her parents finished preparing for the day. At a quarter to nine, they exited the house and strolled into White Swan to begin their day. They arrived just as Severus came toward them, a bag of groceries in his hand indicating he had already visited the shop. "Good morning, Grangers," he said cheerfully. Hermione was still a little taken aback by his easy smile and jovial manner. Nevertheless she managed an appropriate enough greeting. They had barely unlocked the door when the first patients began to arrive. Alana quickly pointed out to Hermione where the main shops were along with the church, post office and community hall which housed the village's new, small library, the latter being the one building in town that she knew her daughter would haunt.

Just a few days after moving back in with them, Hermione had expressed her surprise when Alana mentioned something about the new library. The village did not seem big enough in her eyes to support a full library. Emmet had explained that an elderly resident, who had spent a lifetime collecting books, had left his entire library of over three thousand volumes to the community. At a loss as to what to do with it, and born from a desire of not wanting to lose the vast, eclectic collection to a library in Hastings, they, the village reverend, the doctor, some local mothers and a few other citizens had banded together to raise funding to cordon off a section of the huge community hall and begin a library for the village. A retired teacher, who was finding that a life of leisure was not everything it was cracked up to be, was engaged to keep everything in order and the little community business was thriving in its first few months.

With a smile and a wave, Hermione set off down the High Street, pausing at nearly every shop window to examine what was on display and politely greeting everyone who passed her. She garnered several curious looks but it was not until she was standing in front of the toy shop window, looking at some infant toys that might be suitable for Harry and Gabrielle's impending baby that anyone really spoke to her.

"Do you have a baby, Miss?"

Hermione looked around and down to see she had been addressed by a little boy who looked to be about five years old. "No, I don't," she replied. "But my best friend, Harry, is about to so I thought I might buy a present for him."

"Boys don't have babies," she was informed as though she were a simpleton. "Only girls have babies."

"Well, that is correct, sir," she said. "My best friend is a boy and his wife, who is a girl, is going to have a baby."

"Boys and girls can't be best friends," she was told matter-of-factly. "Only boys and boys and girls and girls can be best friends."

"As you grow up you might find that changes," Hermione said with a smile.

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"Hermione, what's yours?"

"Tommy!" a call came from down the street.

"I'm here, Mum!" the boy shouted back. A woman hurried up pushing a pram with a toddler in it and grasped the boy's hand.

"How many times have I told you? Don't run off while we're on the High Street!" the mother admonished the boy.

"I was just coming to the toy shop," the boy argued. Hermione was quite amused. "Mum, this is… um… Humin-imonee," the boy awkwardly introduced.

Hermione stuck her hand out to the lady. "Hermione… Granger," she introduced.

"Ah, the dentists' daughter… it's nice to meet you. I'm Jackie Doonan," the woman said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. "My husband is the butcher." Hermione had learned in the various visits with her parents, and from dinner with them in the pub the previous week, that everyone in the village generally introduced themselves with their name and how they fit into the village structure. She already knew she would be forevermore known as '_Hermione Granger_, _the dentists' daughter_'. She supposed it was better than '_Hermione Granger, sap_' as she fancied she had begun to be seen in the Wizarding world.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Hermione replied.

"Are you staying with your parents for long?" Jackie asked.

"Yes, I've moved in," Hermione said. Everyone would find out eventually, she may as well be upfront. "My relationship broke up and I quit my job both in the same day so I figured that I would see what life out here had to offer."

Jackie clucked in sympathy. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you," she promised.

"Do you want to come with us to story time, Huminominee?" Tommy asked.

Hermione hesitated for a brief moment but Jackie had been nothing but polite, and Tommy seemed like a nice boy, a bit too confident for a child of his age, perhaps, but nice. Jackie appeared to be around Hermione's age, too, and might be able to introduce her to some more women in her age bracket. "I would be delighted to, young sir," she said with a smile. She had been intending to visit the library anyway and welcomed the opportunity to converse a bit more with Jackie.

Tommy trustingly reached up to grab Hermione's hand as they walked along. "I'm Tommy," he said. "And that's Ryan," he introduced his brother in the pram. Ryan looked up at Hermione and gave her a cheesy grin that she returned. "We're going to story time now. My best friend will be there. He's a boy and his name's Nick. Mummy said if I'm good at story time then Nick can come over and play until it's time for us to go to Nursery School."

"And you ran off on me on the High Street so we will be going home for quiet time after the library," Jackie said firmly.

"But Mu-um," Tommy whined. "I wasn't at story time yet."

"Story time started the minute we left the house. Now, Miss Granger doesn't need to have a bad impression of you from the outset, why don't you tell her about what you're going to do at school today?" Jackie suggested.

Tommy's answer took them all the way down the street, up the stairs, through the community hall and into the library. A particularly detailed description of the finger painting he was going to be doing later was abruptly brought to a halt when Tommy spied Nick already waiting for story time to begin. Speedily abandoned by her date, Hermione recognised the boy that Tommy plunked himself down next to as the little boy who had eaten all his vegetables last night in the pub—even the green ones. Jackie unstrapped Ryan from the pram and put him in a secure play area before indicating some seats next to the woman Hermione had seen the previous night.

As they sat down, Jackie introduced her. "Hermione, this is Maria South. Maria, Hermione Granger."

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione said.

"You too," Maria replied with the same welcoming smile she had given the night before. "Do you have children here?" she asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head as Jackie answered, "No, Tommy asked her to come here when he met her on the High Street," she said with a grin. "She'll probably never talk to us again after we havesubjected her to this."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I was enjoying my impromptu date with your son but it appears his friends are clearly going to come first; I may have to re-evaluate the relationship." The three of them laughed. "I do love children though," she continued. "I always read to my ex-boyfriend's niece." A sudden wave of melancholy passed over her as it hit her again what she had left behind. She had grown quite close to Victoire Weasley and was always a favourite of the little girl's to read to her or play dolls with her. "Sorry," she said, impatiently wiping a tear that had escaped from her eye.

Jackie put an arm around her supportively. "It's all right, love," she said bracingly. "How long ago did you break up?"

"Nearly four weeks," Hermione said. "I'm done crying for him, I just get sad sometimes when I think about the fact I lost his family as well. I've been close to them since I was a child."

"It's the hidden cost," Jackie acknowledged. "Never fear, you'll meet new people and forge new relationships." Maria nodded her agreement as well.

Hermione sniffed her tears back and accepted the tissue Maria produced from her baby bag. She wiped her eyes and nose and smiled at the two women who already seemed so accepting of her. "I saw you at the pub last night, didn't I?" she asked Maria.

"Yes, we go there every Tuesday and Wednesday for dinner," Maria replied. "No matter what we try we cannot get Nick to eat any vegetable other than potato and carrot at home but somehow just the presence of Doctor Snape manages to have him eat every vegetable on his plate. Thirty pounds a week is a small price to pay for that."

"Yes, I can see where Severus would have that influence on a child," Hermione said with a wry grin. Some hints of her former professor were still present in the man; she had glimpsed them on occasion the night before. If Professor Snape had been standing over their shoulders at Hogwarts every night, she was sure even Ron and Harry's eating habits would have been dramatically different. Shaking off the mental reminder of her ex-boyfriend again, she changed the subject. "Where are you from, Maria?" she asked. "I can't quite place your accent."

"I know! It's terrible but I sound more and more like you lot every day," she whined good-naturedly. "I'm Australian, but I've lived here for eight years now."

"Wow, that's a brave thing to do—up sticks and move across the world like that," Hermione commented. They were speaking softly now that the librarian had started to read '_The BFG'_.

"I suppose. I was young and in love. Andy was there for a year-long working holiday and he rented a house from the real estate agency where I worked. We got together and when his visa expired, we came here. He got a job in Hastings but I didn't want to live in a big town so we found a house here instead," Maria explained.

Hermione smiled at the story. It was so simple, meet a man, fall in love, follow him in his endeavours… it was what she had envisaged as a child but quickly unravelled once she found herself in a relationship with Ron. Her thoughts wandered as they stopped talking for a while and listened to the story unfold.

When she and Ron got together it was under the shadow of the Final Battle. Ron was distraught over the death of his brother and she wanted to be there to support him. From there it seemed things just happened around her. First there were dozens of funerals and memorials to attend, and then she had to go and retrieve her parents. Harry had accompanied her on that trip and once they had sorted everything out with Alana and Emmet, he confessed to her that he was not going to go back to England. Fleur had arranged for him to spend some time with her family in France away from everything. It was there that Harry grew close to Gabrielle Delacour, culminating in their marriage four years before.

Hermione and Fleur equally bore the brunt of Harry's so called 'defection' with the Weasley family—Fleur for arranging it and Hermione for supporting it. The ostracising the two witches experienced during family gatherings from the women (led by Molly and Ginny Weasley) only served to bring the two women to a close friendship. Hermione bowed her head a little at the thought she had now lost that friendship. Gabrielle had told her that Fleur had no hard feelings but Hermione did not want to drive a wedge further between the French witch and her in-laws. '_Maybe a letter wouldn't hurt though,_' she thought.

When Hermione returned from Australia, she and Ron had almost immediately moved in together in London. Harry rented Grimmauld Place to them, which was perfect in relation to Hermione's job at the Ministry and, once the Floo was connected to the network, it was easy for Ron to get to the Chudley Cannons stadium for training and games.

Hermione never really stopped to think about her relationship with Ron. They were friends who had somehow found themselves as lovers. There always seemed to be something off though. Knowing what she knew now it was obvious what the cause of the unseen wall between them was, but at the time she was hard-pressed to put her finger on why their sex life seemed only okay, and why she was happier away from the house than in. Ron's training schedule was quite erratic and she found herself spending a lot of time at Shell Cottage with Fleur, Bill and Victoire and weekends in France with Harry and Gabrielle. She stayed away from her parents more than she should have; she knew they disapproved of Ron and she hated feeling the tension that accompanied always being on the edge of having to defend her boyfriend and how he seemed to put Quidditch and his family before her.

In compensation, she threw herself into her own job, only to have that eventually backfire on her too. The werewolf legislation had taken the better part of two years to research, draft and edit. She had led the team through difficult and dangerous tasks in order to ensure they were negotiating the best deal for the werewolves and all her hard work had been thrown back in her face. The only saving grace was that she knew the bill was comprehensive and far-reaching—the werewolves would now have their rights restored to them, regardless of who got the credit.

She looked around the library at all the books. She really felt at home in a cavernous space such as this, filled with tomes of knowledge and whimsy. The high ceilings and ornate fixtures of the old building were perfect to house the collection.

Story time came to an end and Jackie and Maria gathered their children and prepared to leave. "What are you up to now, Hermione?" Maria asked. Hermione looked at her watch, it was ten o'clock.

"Dad wants some apple scrolls at morning tea time," she said. "I might browse a bit here and then go and get them for him."

"Mmm, apple scrolls," Jackie said, her eyes glazing over slightly. "If you're feeling up to it this afternoon, I live in the blue house beside the butcher shop. Come round about two and we'll have a cuppa," Jackie invited Hermione.

Hermione smiled and nodded. It seemed like a lot in one day but if she got the scrolls and went home for a while then she would be able to centre herself a bit. "That sounds great, thanks," she accepted. Maria nodded and left with her children, Jackie following behind. Within five minutes, she was ensconced in a corner between two high shelves, a book of poetry open on her lap and a rich, dark voice in her imagination reading the beautiful words to her.

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"I knew you'd come through for me," Emmet fairly crowed when Hermione entered the reception area of the medical offices carrying a covered tray; the scent of warm, fresh, sweet rolls filling the room almost immediately.

"After the years of lectures about sweets and sugars that were going to rot my teeth, I'm surprised I'm even indulging you and not wreaking revenge," Hermione said with a grin. She greeted the receptionist behind the counter and offered her one of the buns.

"I promise to clean and floss immediately after eating," Emmet teased as he followed his daughter down the hallway to the tea room. They stopped on the way to offer a bun to the dental nurse and to let Alana know Hermione was there. Upon reaching the small kitchen they found Severus already seated at the table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him and the _Hastings Tribune_ in his hands.

He put the paper down as soon as they entered the room. "Something smells nice," he said, an anticipatory gleam in his eyes.

"After all these years of healthy snacks and low-calorie lunches, Severus, we finally have it! Someone to procure normal food for us; Hermione will be our dealer," Emmet said gleefully.

"Hermione most certainly will not!" she retorted. "I seem to recall reminding you mere moments ago of the sweet-deprivation you made me suffer as a child, and now you expect me to help you?" She turned on Severus as his light laughter began to be heard. "And you—would it have killed you to give me one O in six years?"

"Quite possibly," he deadpanned. He grinned when the look of horror crossed Hermione's face; a look that immediately morphed into a narrow-eyed scowl when she realised he was joking. "No apple scroll for you!" she said, imitating a character she had seen on an American television show and holding the tray of buns away from him.

"I am wounded," Severus said dramatically. "This, after I fed you and supplied you with free beers all night."

"It doesn't count when you refuse payment after it's offered," Hermione argued back.

"That can be in return for the O's I supposedly did not give you," Severus countered. "The bun can be a symbol of our new friendship and as a neighbourly gesture."

"I would remember if you gave me an O," Hermione said, grudgingly handing him a sweet bun.

"Check the education records in the Ministry," Severus told her. "You will find your true Potions scores there. Defence Against the Dark Arts warranted only E's—you were much too hesitant most of the time. You will find a few O's for your theoretical work though."

Emmet took the opportunity of Hermione's astonishment to grab the tray of buns and put them on the table, grabbing one for himself and placing it on a plate. He began to prepare a pot of tea to accompany their food.

Hermione finally shook herself from her dumbstruck trance and scoffed. "To think I considered therapy in order to analyse the need I had to excel at everything I did and why I could not seem to please you," she said as she sat down in the chair opposite Severus.

"If you had undergone it I would offer some free medical checks for you in return," Severus said magnanimously.

"I think you should reimburse me for the self-help books I bought along with the time it took for me to read the useless drivel," Hermione shot back.

Severus shook his head. "Anyone wasting time with self-help books deserves no recompense," he stated. "If you had sought the help of a professional then that would have been different. In my opinion, reading a self-help book is akin to you coming in here and telling me all about your self-diagnosis via an internet site."

"Fair enough," Hermione said with an easy smile. She was enjoying their bantering conversation. Alana, Trish (the dental nurse) and the receptionist, Barbara, came in at that moment and the six of them had a pleasant interlude until the bell above the front door indicated the arrival of the next patient. Everyone stood up and the people working in the building headed back to their various tasks after depositing their cups in the sink. Severus hung back though.

"You weren't really considering therapy, were you?" he asked seriously.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No, not really. I did obtain a self-help book though." She giggled when his expression turned distasteful. "I didn't get past the introduction," she assured him. "It was complete and utter hogwash."

Severus smiled. "Well," he said, a little awkwardly. Another bell was heard in the distance. "I should go." He indicated the hallway leading to his office. "Thank you for morning tea."

"You're welcome," Hermione replied. "I'll bring something healthy this afternoon to balance it out," she said cheekily. _'Especially if it means I'll get to see you again,'_ she thought.

Severus smiled at her again and squeezed her arm gently as he passed. _'He's very different,'_ she thought before she busied herself with cleaning the dishes from morning tea and wrapping the sole bun that was left over. _'Maybe different enough to let someone in…'_

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_Thanks for reading. Please leave a review if you would like to._


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